


my one and own, wanna get you alone

by montecarlos



Category: Motorcycling RPF
Genre: Canon Compliant, Caught in the Act, Idiots in Love, Kissing, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:02:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26920342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montecarlos/pseuds/montecarlos
Summary: Rough calloused fingertips slowly tug down the edge of his boxer shorts when they’re interrupted by the door banging open and the only person who could make that much noise stomping into the motorhome. “Mack? You’re not going to believe what that stupid Italian prick said to me-” Jack begins, only to stop at the sight of Maverick on top of Fabio, both practically naked.It was only a matter of time before Jack caught them in the act.(or three times that maverick and fabio got caught, and the one time they finally had time alone)
Relationships: Fabio Quartararo/Maverick Viñales
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	my one and own, wanna get you alone

**Author's Note:**

> So this idea came to me whilst I was listening to Fever by Adam Lambert on my walk home from work today - and it's actually where the title is from, and I just got this idea of Maverick and Fabio unable to ever get any time alone and I really love this trope of involving the other riders and them getting up in Mavio's business and this just happened in one evening. I've had a really shit week so it really feels good to end on a creative, positive note. Fic is set during the opening rounds of the 2020 season.
> 
> Thank you to the people who matter, and to you for reading.

**1.**  
  
“God, I’ve missed you so much,” Maverick mutters, brushing back a strand of amber hair from Fabio’s forehead. “Feels like forever,”  
  
Fabio glances up at him with dark eyes, a chuckle catching in his throat. “We literally saw each other last weekend, and you were invited to my house-”  
  
“I didn’t want to impose,” Maverick purrs, his head dipping down to brush gentle kisses over the edge of Fabio’s jawline before they slowly dance down his neck, latching onto the sensitive skin there, biting down hard. He grins at the noise that falls from Fabio’s mouth, his swollen lips parting around a low sigh as he arches into his boyfriend’s touch. Maverick’s hands slowly move down Fabio’s shirtless torso, fingertips sliding beneath his boxer shorts. Fabio groans against him as Maverick’s hand finds his half-hard dick, his crotch thrusting upwards into Maverick’s touch.  
  
“Mmm,” Maverick hums under Fabio’s skin. “I love to tease you,” He pulls his mouth away from Fabio’s neck, marvelling at the mark that stands out against the pale skin.  
  
“Fuck me,” Fabio whispers, his hazel eyes taking in the sight of his boyfriend above him, of his inky black hair falling in mussed waves, his own brown eyes almost onyx black. “I want you to fuck me,”  
  
Maverick grins widely. “Thought you’d never ask,” Their lips connect together once more, Maverick’s hand wrapping around Fabio’s hardening dick, the Spaniard smiling against Fabio’s mouth as the younger man groans against him.  
  
“Maverick-” Fabio gasps out and his shaking hands move to tug at Maverick’s boxer shorts insistently. “Please-”  
  
Rough calloused fingertips slowly tug down the edge of his boxer shorts when they’re interrupted by the door banging open and the only person who could make that much noise stomping into the motorhome. “Mack? You’re not going to believe what that stupid Italian prick said to me-” Jack begins, only to stop at the sight of Maverick on top of Fabio, both practically naked.  
  
It was only a matter of time before Jack caught them in the act - he was after all, Maverick’s best friend and he was close to Fabio too - but Maverick wants nothing more than to throttle the Australian right now. Fabio remains silent underneath him, but Maverick can see the redness spreading over his cheeks.  
  
“Oh, you’re busy,” Jack begins, his mouth falling open at the sight in front of him. “I guess I can come back later...or I could join in?”  
  
Maverick groans heavily. “Give us a minute to put some clothes on,”  
  
Jack’s mouth twists into a wide grin. “Fine, I’ll wait outside, but you know that the offer is always there right?”  
  
Maverick answers by throwing the nearest item of clothing - Fabio’s Petronas t-shirt at his best friend’s head. “Get out Jack!”  
  
He turns at Fabio after the door clicks shut, the younger man still pale and silent, his hand slowly brushing against his cheek. “Are you okay?”  
  
“Yeah, he’s not going to say anything is he?” Fabio’s voice is soft and worried.  
  
Maverick shakes his head. “No, he won’t say anything, he knows that if he did, I’d tell everyone what he and I got up to when we were seventeen-”  
  
Fabio raises an eyebrow. “Do I wanna know?”  
  
“No,” Maverick says quickly. “No, you don’t wanna know, it involved us in a hot-tub for four hours-”  
  
“Four hours?” Fabio murmurs out. “Guess I’ve got some catching up to do - if we ever get some time alone,” He pouts and Maverick can’t help but smile at the reaction.  
  
“We will, I promise,” Maverick presses a gentle kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. “I’ll kill Jack and we will finally get some peace okay?”  
  


* * *

  
**2.**  
  
They never manage to get their alone time later on, both of them end up in a Playstation tournament with Jack who eats all Maverick’s approved snacks before he disappears a little before 10pm, wanting to rest up for the race but not without reminding them that his offer of a threesome still stands. They’re too tired to do anything but sleep curled up around one another, and they’re woken up at some ridiculous hour of the morning by Tom who prises a sleepy Fabio away to start his morning race routine. The rest of the day is taken up with last minute preparation for the race and then the visors go down and the lights go out.  
  
Fabio wins his first race, and Maverick is there by his side as he collects his trophy and the tears gather in the corner of his eyes at the sound of La Marseillaise. Maverick wants nothing more than to grab a fistful of Fabio’s leathers and kiss him in front of all the cameras, but they can’t do that right now - so Maverick has to settle for a few fistbumps, his grin hidden by his facemask. Fabio ends up tied up in media duties for much of the afternoon after the race and Maverick finds himself holed up in the younger man’s motorhome, Tom helpfully passing him the key and informing him that the paddock was quiet enough for him to slip in unnoticed (Maverick really needs to ask Fabio to give his best friend a pay rise). He’s checking himself in the mirror, that his hair is artfully mussed the way that Fabio prefers, wearing only a pair of his tightest boxer shorts, though he’s sure they will soon disappear when he hears a knock at the door. Fabio has a habit of losing his keys, and Maverick knows this well. Deciding to surprise his boyfriend, he pushes open the door and leans in the doorway. “Well, you took your time,”  
  
However, it’s not Fabio standing outside the door. It’s Marc, his arm currently encased in a sling, his face paling even more.  
  
Maverick opens his mouth but he can’t bring himself to speak, silence permeating the space between the two Spaniards.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Marc all but squeaks out, his cheeks turning pink. “I thought you were Fabio, I was going to congratulate him-”  
  
“He’s still in media interviews,” Maverick manages to bite out, biting down on his lip. “He’ll be back later if you want to-”  
  
Marc shakes his head. “No, no, it’s fine. Just pass on the message will you? I assume that you will be busy-” A small smile brushes over his lips and Maverick watches the world champion turn on his heel and walk away, presumably to his own motorhome, ignoring the burn on his cheeks at Marc’s words.  
  
Fabio appears an hour later, but he’s too wired to do anything, partly exhausted from the media duties and the excitement of the post-race rush so they just curl up together, their hands entwined.  
  
“I wanted to surprise you earlier,” 

Fabio cocks his head slightly. “Yeah? Why didn’t you?”  
  
“Because Marc came to the motorhome to congratulate you on the win and I answered the door half naked,” Maverick murmurs.  
  
Fabio lets out a laugh. “Bet he loved that,”  
  
“He was really embarrassed about it, you know what he’s like - we don’t really get on,” Maverick says, biting his lip.  
  
“Yeah, I know,” Fabio replies. “But he’s his loss, I get you all to myself-” He leans in and presses a kiss to Maverick’s cheek. “But not tonight, I’m too tired,”  
  
“Maybe we can finally get some proper time alone without any interruptions at the next race,” Maverick says softly, and he _hopes_.  
  


* * *

  
**3.**  
  
“God, finally, we’re alone,” Fabio murmurs, glancing down at his boyfriend - it’s not the most comfortable position to be in, pressed against the wall of one of the empty garages - but the paddock is heaving and there was no chance of them sneaking into either of their motorhomes, even though the Yamaha rider’s motorhomes are clustered together. Fabio had grabbed hold of Maverick’s wrist and tugged the Spaniard into the nearest empty garage, hidden from cameras and the prying eyes of the media and the other staff. “God, I feel like we’ve not had a minute to ourselves for the last week-”  
  
“Because we haven’t,” Maverick chuckles breathlessly. “You had all that stuff to sort out, didn’t you?”  
  
Fabio pouts. “That stuff was boring, you are much _much_ more interesting,”  
  
Maverick grins, feeling Fabio’s hands slowly close around the zipper to his leathers. “Oh really?”  
  
“Yeah, I’d much rather be doing you than that stuff,” Fabio murmurs softly, the sound of the teeth separately barely audible over the buzz of the paddock, Maverick letting out a shudder as the cool air hits his sweaty skin. Fabio draws the zip down lower and lower, leaning it to slowly suck a bruise into Maverick’s skin. The Spaniard yelps at the contact, at the sensation of Fabio’s mouth scraping against his skin, his tongue wet and warm against the bruising skin. He melts against the taller man, his hands moving to grasp at Fabio’s neck, fingers brushing over the cross tattoo on his sweaty skin.  
  
“Fabio-” He murmurs out and Fabio bites down harder, his hands slipping beneath Maverick’s leather, calloused fingertips dancing over his nipples. Maverick has to stop himself moaning loudly at the contact as Fabio’s hands dip lower, sliding beneath his underwear.  
  
“Someone’s excited,” Fabio says, pulling his mouth away from Maverick’s neck, his eyes dark with something that the Spaniard cannot place. He cups Maverick’s hard dick in his hand. “Really excited to see me,”  
  
“Fabio, please,” Maverick whimpers and Fabio’s thumb slides over the leaking slit of his cock.  
  
“Tell me what you want, baby,” Fabio purrs, cocking his head slightly, enjoying the sight of Maverick falling apart.  
  
“I- I want you,” Maverick manages to force the words out. “I want you to touch me,”  
  
“Maverick?” Another voice cuts through the hurried, heavy breathing and both men freeze, Maverick’s eyes opening to see his teammate standing behind him with his arms folded. Fabio pulls his hands away from Maverick’s dick and the Spaniard lets out a low whine at the lack of contact. “Sorry to interrupt,” Valentino’s face gives nothing away. “I just wanted to know if Maverick had any earplugs that I could borrow,”  
  
“Yeah, I’ve got some spares in my motorhome,” Maverick barely begins to get the words out.  
  
Valentino gives him a small smile. “I’ll let you clean up first?”  
  
The nine time world champion slips out of the garage silently and the two men watch him go wordlessly.  
  
“Do you think we’re ever going to get some time alone?” Fabio asks with a sigh.  
  
“We’ll get some time alone,” Maverick replies, grabbing Fabio’s hand and giving it a small squeeze. “Even if we have to lock all the riders into one motorhome to do it,”  
  
“Don’t give me ideas,” Fabio grins as he squeezes back.  
  


* * *

  
**+1.**  
  
Thankfully, there’s no need to lock any MotoGP riders into their motorhomes as the race weekend ends and Maverick and Fabio are able to return to Andorra. They’re barely through the door of Maverick’s apartment when Fabio grabs the Spaniard, pulling him into a deep kiss. It’s hard and wet and full of tongue and Maverick groans at the contact as Fabio’s hands move to push Maverick’s coat from his shoulders.  
  
“Somebody’s eager-” Maverick says against Fabio’s mouth but the Frenchman does not respond, he merely continues to undress Maverick, the coat sliding away from Maverick’s broad shoulders. They barely notice the material fall into a heap by their feet as Fabio reluctantly rips his lips away to grab the bottom of Maverick’s t-shirt, pulling it over the Spaniard’s head before their lips reconnect again.  
  
“Can’t keep your hands off me,” Maverick tries again, Fabio’s calloused but warm fingers brushing up against his skin, mapping every inch and committing it to memory.  
  
“Stop talking,” Fabio growls under his breath, his hands dropping down to Maverick’s jeans, his hands popping open the button. Maverick hisses at the sensation as the denim is pulled down his legs, leaving him in nothing but his boxer shorts.  
  
“Bedroom?” Maverick suggests and Fabio nods silently, tugging the Spaniard towards the room. Their lips reconnect as Maverick is led backwards towards the bed, his knees hitting the back of the furniture and he falls backwards onto rumpled sheets. Fabio glances down at him for a moment, as though admiring the view, before he pulls off his own shirt, his jeans following shortly afterwards. 

“We’re finally _alone_ ,” Fabio murmurs out as he sinks on top of the Spaniard, his smile widening.  
  
Maverick grins back. “Yeah, we are,”  
  
  



End file.
